That was the sound of the banhammer descending: my building is now a bird-free zone. From this day forth, no-one may feed the birds, put out nestboxes, or otherwise encourage birdly visitation.

For me, this is a huge disappointment. Due to limited mobility and lack of transportation, the majority of my birding is of the backyard variety. When I’m not at home, looking out at my own backyard, I’m in the backyard across the street, which has much the same birds as mine. Only, I’d get a few interesting extras, here, because of the feeders: Anna’s hummingbirds, a variety of woodpeckers, the occasional bird of prey. And, of course, Loudenstein and Noisenberg (who are out there right now, staring at the spot where the food always was, and making the most plaintive of noises; I can’t even look at them!).

So. What are my options, here?

Learn to drive; bird in the parks

PROS: Learning to drive would be good for more than just birding expeditions. I could go…well, anywhere, really, within the confines of my petrol budget.

CONS: I’ve tried this before. I wasn’t good at it. My vision and reflexes are both dreadful; I’m the only person I know who got into an accident during my driver’s exam. Furthermore, I can’t afford a car — and even if I could, I’d have nowhere to park it.

Buy some sort of remote-control plane with a camera attached; use it to fly above birds, and gaze down upon them

PROS: It might be fun, I suppose…. Nobody else would be doing it. My tiny plane could get close to birds I’d never be able to approach, in the flesh.

CONS: It rains all the time, here. I’m not sure what would happen to a remote-control plane on a wet day, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t be good. Also, it would cost a fortune to buy, and then another fortune in batteries. And, worst of all…well, if you were a bird, and this buzzy electric thing kept flying above you, wouldn’t you be a little irritated? The idea’s to admire, not annoy.

Move

PROS: I could get a place with a washer & dryer. Much as I enjoy the fluff-and-fold service, sending out my washing gets expensive. Also, I hate the fact that I only get to wear my favourite cardigan once every two weeks. If I had my own W&D, I could stick it in every evening, and have it ready to go the next day. Furthermore, living in a house, with a garden, I could fill up the flowerbeds with hummingbird-friendly blooms, hang a feeder from a tree, and get a much nicer selection of birds.

CONS: Maintaining a house and garden is time-consuming, and possibly difficult. (I’ve never gardened. I don’t know.) Moving is the worst; the absolute pits. I might still get a landlord who doesn’t want birds on his property — though, if I asked in advance, got permission in writing for a birdfeeder, that could be avoided. I’d lose my beautiful view of False Creek.

Maybe I will move. Maybe it’s time to buy, rather than rent. I hear it’s quite nice, up by Queen Elizabeth Park — and there are ravens, in the area.

One of the minigulls has survived long enough to earn a name, and that name is Noisenberg.

The other, I haven’t seen in a while. It’s been a couple of weeks, now, since there’ve been two little gulls on the roof across from mine. That second one probably got eaten. There are eagles in the vicinity. They snack on gulls, here and there.

The remaining gullie brother’s been coming to my balcony almost every day, lately. I don’t want him becoming too tame. To that end, I feed him, and talk to him in a kind and indulgent manner, but when he comes too close, or pokes his head in the window, I shoo him. It wouldn’t do for him to become complacent around human beings. We can be worse than eagles, under the wrong circumstances. Loudenstein, I’m sure, is aware of this already. Noisenberg, who knows? What do gulls learn from their parents? And do they take it all to heart, or do they rebel? One thing Noisenberg has learned beautifully: that irritating alarm call. Gah-gah-gah. Gah-gah-gah. Gah-gah-gah. I could probably throw away my alarm clock. I get that every morning, first thing.

Bird tongue! Bird tongue! BIRD TONGUE! :-)

Much as I don’t want to tame this bird, I took pains to make it understand that the camera is harmless. Loudenstein flew away, the first few times I tried to photograph him. Noisenberg did not. I’d been pointing the lens at him daily, for a week, by the time I dropped the shutter on him. He barely reacted, when I did.

I’ve been hearing another bird lately, as well — that little wheep! bird, from last winter. It’s begun cropping up again, taunting me from the bushes on my morning walks. This winter, I’m determined to root it out and identify it. My bird list hasn’t had a new addition, in a while.

Birds! Bewilderment! Being outside!

This is my blog! It's mostly about birds, but also about being outside: photographs I've taken while outside, accountings of places I've parted company with umbrellas, notes on interesting rubbish sightings, and so forth. If I don't post about being outside for a few days, please comment and harass me till I go outside.